


A Story of a Purple Mech – Niebieski

by Nemesisfan_69



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Action & Romance, Alcohol, Angst, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Giant Robots, League of Legends (game) references, M/M, Mecha Au, Pain Kink, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Swearing, Terrorism, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, uhealthy sex practices, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemesisfan_69/pseuds/Nemesisfan_69
Summary: Oskar is no run-of-the-mill mecha pilot. He believes that he's the chosen one - that he will achieve something grand. Along with a giant robot – Selfmade, formerly named "Niebieski" - and his best friend, Nemesis, he's fighting against a terrorist organization G2.Will him meeting an unspecified civilian change the flow of destiny?
Relationships: Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek & Tim "Nemesis" Lipovšek, Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek/?, Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek/Rasmus "Caps" Winther
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	A Story of a Purple Mech – Niebieski

**Author's Note:**

> "Niebieski" is Selfmade's old ign, from the time he played in Polish tournaments. It means "blue".
> 
> Thank you to my beta – scorpia_tiger - for suffering through this lengthy angst and somehow surviving.  
> My inspirations for the fic are listed in the end notes.
> 
> Please don't read this story if the tags are not for you. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat! I consider you warned.
> 
> Having said that~~ let's proceed to the g i a n t r o b o t s!!!

When you're 16 years old, you earn a once-in-a-lifetime chance to prove yourself. 

Nobody knows for sure how those big, shiny, and extremely deadly robots came to life and why they're conscious. One of the theories says that it must've been aliens or gods that granted the human-crafted machines with an ounce of free will. Oskar never really cared what it was or where it came from, hell, the fact that those robots, or as they called them in school - 'mechs' - are partially sentient doesn't bother him either. What he knows though, is the fact that one of those mechs has been always calling him. Nobody believes him, but there is no doubt in his mind that he is chosen to do something grand. Even though he is excelling in all of his piloting classes, it's not the diligence nor hard work that let him get chosen by one of the deadliest mechs – it's a sheer talent combined with an unflinching spirit and fiery power of will that let 16-year-old Oskar not only acquire a robot but also force it to change its name to the one of his choosing. Thus is born Selfmade, Agony's Embrace, mech as beautiful as it is sinister.

Of course, Oskar isn't the only one chosen by a robot. Even now, years later, he remembers his first encounter with his best friend.

"Hey. I'm Oskar, what's your name?" Oskar says cheerily, spotting someone who is clearly a new trainee just like him and closing his distance in a few large steps. The boy is small and clearly not very physically fit. He flinches at the sound of an unknown voice and Oskar can't help but wonder if somebody like this really could've been chosen by a robot. They are dressed in the same uniform though, so he must be one of the other four adepts accepted into the MAD Lions mecha training grounds.

"Nemesis," the boy mutters under his breath, not looking at Oskar.

"Your name is Nemesis?" Oskar realizes that he was given the name of the other's mech, and even though it's cool, it's not what he was asking for. "Where are you from? Is that a common name there?" He decides to tease the boy with a cheeky smirk.

"No. Slovenia. No," Nemesis answers, still avoiding the questioning gaze. "I'm Tim, but..." he hesitates before finishing the sentence, "...nevermind." He has to run up a bit to still walk next to Oskar and even though his face looks completely disinterested, this little movement proves that Tim cares about continuing the conversation. Of course he'd like to befriend someone as charismatic as Oskar – who wouldn't?

"I can call you Nemesis if that's what you're into, I don't care, man," Oskar grins crookedly and gives Nemesis a heartfelt smack on the back, so heartfelt that the other nearly trips. Seeing this, Oskar can't hold back laughter – he can probably easily use this clumsy resident sleeper to buy him lunch.

He changes his mind during the first training.

Nemesis, the Judicator, is a shiny, golden mech, its brightness contrasting with Selfmade's smoky purple. At first, Oskar evaluates the robot as useless, hiding behind its teammates and gathering energy, even though they are fighting in a simulation and Tim could go all-out without fear of dying. Sure, the mech can boost the recovery speed of itself and the other mechs, but not by a lot, and its attacks are of laughable power compared to Selfmade's.

The AI bots they are fighting against aren't particularly strong, so at some point Oskar decides to go head-in first, not even utilizing Selfmade's ability to turn completely invisible. He destroys one robot after the other, feeling that the rush of adrenaline is making his mech's componentry hum in satisfaction as if the havoc is satiating its thirst. He loses himself in the feeling of destruction, dancing in the rain of metal pieces flying around, taunting and ridiculing his enemies.

At least until he finds his mech completely surrounded by the AIs. There is no way out and even though Selfmade excels in melee combat, it's more of an assassin type of a robot – it's not very sturdy, but rather light and fast. Fighting this many enemies at once is definitely not something it can handle. Oskar tries to fly out of the swarm, but he can't, and the AIs keep shooting at him from every angle. The resistances are reduced to zero and Selfmade's conscience cries out in Oskar's mind as its metal body is pierced by bullets, the pilot desperately trying to hold his ground against multiple red notifications on the screen. He realizes that if this were a real battle, he'd be in danger of dying. He's barely able to control the mech as the small robots close in, ready to deal the finishing blow.

The sky is pierced by a pillar of light so bright Oskar involuntarily closes his eyes. When he opens them, he's surrounded by hundreds of glowing swords and a bright shield that stops all of the bullets. Oskar has never seen anything like this. The bots still try to attack the mech, but they can't pierce the golden sphere Selfmade is safely tucked in.

"Kneel before the light!" Nemesis roars as the swords fall down, shredding the robots to pieces. He raises his blade and shoots bullets so fast the air around them forms into deadly waves, slicing metal like it's butter.

Oskar finds his mech amidst a sea of cables, plates and weaponry but Selfmade is safe, still close to destruction, but its invisibility and regeneration can finally go off when it's not constantly under attack.

When they go out of the simulation, Oskar ignores all the other teammates praising him for defeating foes so quickly and runs straight to Nemesis who looks as deadpan and unimpressed as ever. He raises his hand and the smaller pilot cowers expecting a strong smack to his back, but instead receives a light pat and a bright, not even slightly crooked grin.

A shy smile creeps onto Nemesis's lips before he bites the insides of his cheeks, but Oskar has already noticed.

That's how they became friends. They've been pretty much inseparable since that day, Oskar taking care of enemies until Nemesis channels his energy and finishes them off. They were planning to be recruited to a troop together, to fight together forever as brothers in arms, but unexpectedly Nemesis gets an offer from an elite unit – FNC. They have been lacking a member since one of their former soldiers, Caps, rumored to be the best pilot of the new age, betrayed the army and joined the opposition, an anti-government organization G2. Those terrorists disagree with experiments on the conscience of the mech being conducted by the government and several talented pilots have already joined them. They are the worst enemies of any lawful citizen.

At first, Nemesis doesn't want to accept FNC’s offer to replace Caps, but Oskar pushes him into it even though jealousy is tearing his insides apart. After all, he is the one who tamed his mech so well it changed its name from "Niebieski" to "Selfmade" as a symbol of complete surrender to its owner's will. Nemesis on the other hand seems to live in perfect symbiosis with his robot, letting it alter his own conscience when needed and changing his own name to the mech's. At some point Oskar starts calling him "Neme" to make it clear if he is referring to the person or to the robot. For him, his dearest companion, he can replace the jealousy with proudness – after all, Nemesis wouldn't be where he is now without Oskar's unwavering support.

They keep in contact through a year of separation and fate knows better than to hold them back from fighting together. When FNC needs another soldier after one of their previous pilots dies in a terrorist attack, they reach out to Oskar. He gladly accepts the offer and reunites with the person he considers as close as a brother.

He knows the path they chose is dangerous, but even after all those years, there is no doubt in his mind that he is chosen to do something grand. Maybe he is the one to free Europe from the G2 terrorists. That's what he believes as he encounters them for the first time.

The FNC five-member troop is sent to fight in a remote area – apparently, the terrorists' hideout is located deep within a lake near Neoberlin. As expected, they get attacked before they get there. Oskar watches from a side, hidden from the enemy's eyes, ready to strike when they least expect it, as his teammates get engaged on by a mech whose legs resemble giant scissors. It singles out Nemesis and tries to strangle its head in a sharp embrace but Oskar doesn't flinch from his position knowing that there is no real danger. The swords of light form around the golden robot and the enemy tries to retreat, already knowing that it can't hurt Nemesis in this state. It's pulled back by a hook from another FNC member, who simultaneously sends all of them a message:

_ They're here to stall. Defeat this one and look at the sun. _

Oskar doesn't want to reveal his position just yet, so he decides not to participate in the slaughter of the scissor-legged robot but rather immediately focuses on the sun. It's hard to see anything under the blinding brightness, but he can see them – a bunch of small, cargo robots are carrying something to the horizon. He immediately understands – the terrorists are trying to move their hideout. 

When he turns back to the battle, all of his allies as well as the enemy mech are frozen in place, their armor adorned with pure gold, restricting the movement of the robots. It's an ability of one of the enemies, a grey and red masked mech hiding to the side – it's not particularly threatening, but perfect for earning some time. Oskar can already see another robot closing in to his allies, but it's still 4v3, so he flies upward, sending his teammates a brief message that he's going to chase the cargo ships. He's not only invisible, but also fast, and only one of the enemy mechs is defending the transit. One is still missing and Neme tells him to be careful even though he's engaged in combat right now. Oskar only sends him  _ right back at you,  _ but he knows his friend is going to be careful regardless – he always is.

That's when the fifth enemy shows itself. The mech bars Selfmade's way as if it knows exactly what its pathing is, even without seeing it. They must've left some vision that Oskar missed on his way and now one of his trump cards, the invisibility, is rendered useless. Even worse, it's not just any enemy, it's the robot piloted by the young, rebellious prodigy himself – Caps, the Unshackled. It's giant, bigger than any normal mech, but swift and precise in its movements nonetheless. Its sharp, metallic arms are carrying two huge chains, one of which is probably around the size of Selfmade. A mech of this stature must've been extremely hard to tame and Oskar wonders just what kind of pilot must sit in the cockpit.

Nevertheless, he's an enemy. Oskar's blood boils in the excitement that, finally, he gets to participate in a battle with real stakes. He can defeat Caps right here, right now, and show the world that he's indeed chosen to achieve grand success and that FNC should've grabbed him earlier.

Caps rushes at him first, but Oskar's reflexes and Selfmade's acceleration make the chains just barely miss as it ducks to the left. The sheer pressure of air created with the swing is enough to throw the smaller mech off course and Oskar involuntarily shivers at the thought of the hit connecting. Even though Caps is by no means a snail, at least it's good to know that as long as the chains don't find their target, Selfmade is faster.

The mech finds itself on the right side of the enemy and lashes out on the seam of the breastplate hiding the mystery pilot from Oskar's eyes. It's not curiosity leading him to attack this part, he doesn't need to know what a person that's going to be dead in a moment looks like. Killing a pilot is just the fastest way of stopping a mech.

Selfmade unleashes its thorns and spiky tails in a spectacular combo, perfectly hitting the spot. The right side of the breastplate comes off with a loud screech, the piece of metal now hanging from the other side, soon to completely fall off by the means of gravitation. Caps wavers, showing dark, opaque glass of the cockpit. The energy needed for Selfmade's ultimate ability has almost finished channeling and he knows that with the window already exposed it's going to be lethal. 

Only by the instinct of someone who's used the ability thousands of times, Selfmade survives Caps' blow. As the larger mech lunges forward and unleashes a horizontal wave of smoky, purple energy, the smaller machine jumps upward, not in time to completely avoid the attack, but at least enough to defend the pilot from being cut in half. It's Selfmade's own ability. Caps can steal the ultimate ability of its opponent, Oskar remembers, as his mech cuts in half, the legs no longer connected to the trunk. He's falling, the upper half of the mech unable to float in the air alone. At least the ability has teleported Caps a couple hundred meters back, a distance it now has to cover to finish Selfmade. Oskar sees it fly in slow motion, random moments from his life surfacing to his mind – his first toy robot, the moment he got accepted into the piloting school, the time he heard his mech, then named „Niebieski”, call for him, multiple trainings with Neme and constant arguing if jumping straight into the battle is better than waiting for the ultimate ability to channel, the face of the one boy they (or was it more him?) bullied, the jealousy of not being accepted into FNC right off the bat and then the moment he finally got accepted, meeting the legendary troop captain for the first time and...

Caps has come.

It swings one of its chains and Oskar wishes Neme were here to save him like he always did. 

But he is still on the ground. Oskar's always knew that fighting comes with a risk of dying, and he's prepared his last words in advance. He mouths „thank you” and closes his eyes. 

A loud explosion tears the sky in half and Oskar realizes he's still alive.

It's the FNC captain's mech, Rekkles, firing its four deadly bullets into Caps. The first one, aimed at the mech's arm, saves Oskar from certain death. The second one misses the exposed cockpit window by mere centimeters, but it shatters nonetheless, showering Selfmade with glass. The pilot is clearly not dead yet though, as the robot immediately retreats, even before Oskar can take a glance inside the cockpit. The third bullet reaches the mech's back and the machine barely still flies, components and metal parts falling to the lake below it. The fourth shot, the strongest, will be the finisher.

Before it's even fired, Selfmade's falling parts are caught by the strong arms of a larger mech and safely transported to the ground. In the end, the fourth shot never comes – the captain must've gotten distracted by another enemy and Caps manages to safely retreat towards the sun. It's joined by another three machines that fought FNC on the ground. The sturdy, black and red mech that helped Selfmade starts to chase them, but it's called back by Neme, who says they can't just leave the cut in half robot unguarded and recklessly follow the enemies. Oskar voices his disagreement, and one more pilot agrees to leave him and chase, but their voices are silenced by the captain, deciding that they should retreat and let Selfmade repair. 

  
***  
  
  


A few days pass and Oskar can't wait for his mech to fully repair. After all those years of being able to fly every day, suddenly having to give it up leaves him in a restless state. Neme asks him if he wants to fly in his machine, but it's not the same. Oskar pats him on the back with appreciation but declines the offer and goes for a walk instead. Years ago, before he acquired Selfmade, he enjoyed taking walks every day, his flawless sense of direction letting him wander wherever he wanted without getting lost.

This day his legs guide him to the forest near the city, the one beyond which he fought with Caps. He wonders if he could see the fallen breastplate resting on the lake bed if he looked into the clear water, and with this thought he climbs a small hill on the cliff. Someone is already there, standing so close to the edge that if Oskar wanted to kill the person, he'd have as much as to gently push their back. Nobody would find the body, too. The area is remote from the city and it'd take days to extract the evidence from the lake.

Oskar pushes those thoughts away and greets the person instead of killing them.

„Hello.”

„Oh, hello! I didn't expect to meet anybody up here,” the person turns around with a start, a huge grin adorning his face even despite the fact that a sudden intruder must've spooked him. It's a man of a small posture, probably around Oskar's age. He is not as scrawny as Neme though, and as if to further demonstrate how different he is from the pilot, he meets the other's eyes and smiles even brighter.

„Honestly, nor did I,” Oskar smiles back and stands next to the man. „Nice view, huh. You come here often?”

„Sometimes. It's a good place to think,” he answers and giggles nervously as if he just said something funny, but not really. 

Oskar looks down on the lake and can't notice the breastplate nor any other sign that he could've died here just a few days ago. The other man is also looking down as if analyzing the waves crashing on the cliff. A refreshing breeze comes from the direction of the lake, brushing Oskar's hair and gently caressing his cheeks. He looks at the other man standing next to him and follows his gaze – it's focused on the horizon. On the horizon that those frigging cargo ships disappeared behind. Oskar feels like shielding his eyes from the view when he thinks that he was so close to stopping the terrorists and yet he failed and pulled down his teammates with him.

„What are you thinking about?” He whispers as not to disturb the calmness of the scene. 

„Just... work stuff,” the other shrugs, but Oskar feels like there is more to the story, so he looks at his newfound companion with an unsaid question. „About a year ago I...” the man hesitates like he's not sure if he wants to share with a random citizen, but decides to go with the flow. „I changed jobs,” he sighs. „My previous one had really... toxic environment and it wasn't what I expected it to be. The... management didn't care about civilians. But now at my new workplace sometimes I'm expected to do more than I'm able to. I'm good at what I do and I'm aware of it, but still... I don't know.”

Oskar isn't sure how he should react to this normal person sharing his normal life problems with him. He's risking his life for the wellbeing of everyone and such small matters never concerned him. Nevertheless, even he knows it's not a moment to laugh.

„What's your job?” He settles on a simple question that'd give him some much-needed context for the story.

„Oh, you know...” the man shrugs again but his voice cracks – he must feel really uncomfortable talking to a stranger. „...just your standard... 9-to-5 job,” he answers finally with another shrug. „What's yours?” he adds before Oskar can inquire further. The question forces a problem – he can't just say he is a mech pilot. Their identities and private lives should stay a secret if they want to have any chance to live till old age. 

„I'm just...” he starts and puts his hands in his pockets in search of something that can give him any idea what a normal job civilian would have might be. He can't say he works in an office too, since he's never even been to one, so his lie could be easily uncovered. Before the pause is too long, he finds a small cog inside his pocket and decides on what he can safely say. „I'm a mechanic.”

„I see. So, do you like big machines?” The other turns to him with a glint in his eye that surely wasn't there a second ago. 

„Of course, who do you think I am! Especially...” Oskar wants to say 'mechs' but he made this story up  _not_ to talk about the giant robots. Still, hell knows he loves all kinds of big machines. „Tanks,” he says with a smile, and the other seems interested enough to hopefully continue this topic. „Panther or Tiger?” Oskar asks with excitement he hasn't felt in a while. Is there really a chance that this random civilian likes old war machines?

„Wow, that's so old-school!” the man laughs in what seems like sincere amusement. „Panther, obviously,” he answers with a tint of childish stubbornness in his voice that makes it impossible to fight against.

„Haha, yeah man, obviously!” Oskar joins in with his laughter. It's unexpectedly enjoyable to talk to this person and they exchange their views on a multitude of war machines, but never even touch the subject of robots. Oskar loses the track of time as they sit down on the ground and draw various models of guns in the dirt. As the sun starts to set, their fun is interrupted by a notification on the other man's phone.

„Ah, I have to go back,” he states, looking at the phone. „Is there a chance we could... um... finish talking another time?” he smiles in this adorable way of his and Oskar must admit he's a bit smitten.

„Sure! Wait, I'll give you my number,” he offers and dictates the digits as the other puts the contact in. 

„What should I save it as?” the man asks, looking up deeply into Oskar's eyes.

„Oskar,” he reveals his real name on the spur of the moment and reaches out to shake hands with his new friend. „With a 'K'.”

„Rasmus,” he mutters shyly but beams right after, shaking hands. „With an 'S'. Or even two 'S's.”

„Okay, two 'S' Rasmus, see you later," Oskar waves and follows the other man's back with his eyes until he disappears in the forest.

What an unexpectedly enjoyable day. As soon as he gets back to the base he rushes to find Neme. His friend sits in the mech garage next to his robot, as he usually does in his free time when he's not entangled in Oskar's mischief. He turns toward the direction of the steps but, unlike Rasmus, avoids eye-contact. Oskar greets him with a pat on the back and a grin and gets a small, seemingly uninterested nod in response. The meaning behind this gesture is that Neme is ready to listen to whatever his friend has to say and offer his best advice if needed.

His deadpan crumbles when he learns about Rasmus and he listens inquisitively, asking minor questions from time to time. When the story is finished, he looks at Oskar proudly, as if it was thanks to him that the two met in the first place.

„I hope you won't forget about me when you two get together,” he says with a faintest of smirks and if anybody else heard him say such a sentence they'd probably self-combust in disbelief, but Oskar knows that he's not the emotionless machine people make him out to be.

„Are you jealous?” he jabs back, playfully ruffling Neme's fluffy hair.

„Of course I am. You're mine,” he jokes in a voice that any other person would consider as serious but is in fact a part of his deadpan sense of humor. „Well, I guess I can let you go off sometimes. Just introduce me to him if it starts feeling serious.” His hand wanders to stroke the shiny metal of his mech. It'd be hypocritical of Neme if he didn't allow the relationship. After all, he values his robot as much as he does his best friend – he never directly admitted it, but there is no need. Oskar knows him well enough to realize and accept this simple truth.

„I will, I will, don't you worry! But hold your _mechanical_ _horses_ ,” he puffs his nose at his own joke. Needless to say, Neme looks very unimpressed. „Oh come on, I'm hilarious!” Oskar flails his arms to make a point and his friend can't keep the straight face any longer. He hides it in his hand and laughs, shaking his head. „Anyway, I've met Rasmus only once so far,” Oskar adds. „What if he doesn't call?”

„He will.”

Neme's prophecy fulfills itself on the very next day and once again Oskar finds himself walking to the forest. He's greeted by the same bright smile as Rasmus stands so close to the cliff he must've thought about jumping at least once.

Even though Oskar feels a bit self-conscious about lying to him, they never touch on the subject of the job again. There is simply way too much to share about their shared interests. Oskar doesn't question why this office worker knows as much as he does about airflows or engines and neither does Rasmus, but they talk until it turns late and they have to postpone the rest of the conversation to the next day. And then to the next day. And then to the day after that. There's simply way too much to talk about, and the conversation flows as naturally as waves of the lake curiously glaring at them from below. They sit closer and closer and even if their hands or thighs or, well, lips, touch, neither moves back.

When Selfmade is finally fully repaired, Oskar bitterly admits that he's a bit disappointed he won't be able to meet with Rasmus so often from now on. He refuses the next invitation saying that he's busy with work and unfortunately, it's true. He has a lot of missed patrols to make up for – Neme has been covering all of his hours and even if the signs aren't very apparent on his face, he's exhausted. Good thing the terrorists haven't been active lately, probably busy with their little relocation trip.

Oskar wishes Neme would sleep and let him handle the first patrol after Selfmade's repair, but the higher-ups have sensed something suspicious in the city and so the whole squad of FNC is sent to cover the streets of Neoberlin. It looks like a normal day and Oskar is enjoying simply flying around the city in his mech way, way too much. He jumps and dances in the air instead of rigidly following his route. 

_ You seem happy _ , comes a message from Neme. He is patrolling the middle part of the city, while Oskar is in charge of making sure that all of the other members are not falling behind on their tasks. Due to that, Selfmade flies by Nemesis a couple of times, maybe one or two more than it really should.

_ Life is great, Neme,  _ Oskar answers, grinning to himself like a maniac.  _ I want you to meet Rasmus on Sunday,  _ he adds. 

_ In three days? I don't know if I can make it _ , Neme sends, and even though Oskar already knows that it's a joke – the pilot doesn't tend to have any non-job-related appointments – another message,  _ :) ,  _ makes sure that there is no misunderstanding.

Time seems to be peacefully going by in the city. Nothing is happening in the center, so Selfmade patrols the outskirts when he hears a possible danger call through their team communication system. It comes from Nemesis, and while it's not anything serious yet, just a strange activity, he's the one to backup his friend. 

„Confirmed – a bomb, sending coordinates,” the metallic voice of the golden mech reverberates in Oskar's ears. He changes the course to Nemesis' location and ignites all engines. The other members are told to stay in their lanes as it might be a trap to lure them all to one part of the city.

„One enemy confirmed – Caps. Orders?”

Caps. Of all machines, Caps is there, the deadliest of the enemies, the one who almost killed Oskar the last time. The thought of Nemesis fighting it alone sends shivers down Oskar's spine since he's not there yet – why did his pathing lead him to the outskirts?!

„Backup on the way. Engage,” comes an answer from the base and if Selfmade wasn't already flying at full speed, Oskar would push any button to go faster. „Selfmade. Start channeling the ultimate,” another order comes and Oskar curses under his breath – the amount of energy it takes to channel the ability will greatly impede his advance. He obeys with a shower of _kurwa_ s directed towards the higher-ups. Sure, they know a thing or two about strategy and war, but Oskar is the one piloting the mech and he _feels_ like he should be flying at full speed not wasting the valuable time. 

Over the comms he can hear that Nemesis is fighting. It must be extremely taxing on the pilot's body, he hasn't been resting since Selfmade got cut in half, and hearing his loud panting makes Oskar's heart clench. His ultimate is not yet ready either – it's one of the most powerful abilities, probably second only to Caps', but it takes an extremely long time to channel and the thought of the enemy stealing it and using it against him would be petrifying to anyone not trained to mute the dread. The only thing that Nemesis has going on for it is the range – Caps can attack only as far as its chains let it.

Selfmade arrives just in time to see that Nemesis is still holding Caps at an arm's length and Oskar releases a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. Based on the damage, the golden mech received maybe 2 or 3 swings from the chains, but not any direct hits and it's steadily chipping the enemy's armor with its waves of steel-cutting air from a safe distance. It's too far away for the attacks to cut through the plates completely, but they're already bruised. The new breastplate shines in the morning sun threateningly, the fresh cracks only adding to the intimidating effect.

This time Oskar is going to make use of his mech's invisibility. He informs Neme that he's going to attack Caps' back and finish it after unleashing the whole combo and his friend sounds relieved while agreeing to the plan. 

Selfmade sneaks from behind and unleashes its spikes, their sharp edges damaging Caps' back, metal flying around like water from a broken fountain. Before the enemy can fully turn around to see what hit it, Oskar is ready to order his robot to use the ultimate ability. 

„DIE,” he shouts and presses the button. He can feel one of the chains has attached to his mech's armor, but it doesn't matter if the two robots teleport back together – the enemy is going to be already cut in half.

The sky is pierced by a pillar of light so dark Oskar involuntarily closes his eyes. When he opens them, Caps is surrounded by hundreds of dim swords and a dark shield that stops Selfmade's attack. Oskar has seen the ability before, but it was always light and pleasantly warm, tucking him in safety, the swords wreaking havoc to everything besides Selfmade. This time is different and he realizes too late that letting the enemy attach the chains to his mech was a mistake. Selfmade can't stop channeling the second part of the ability and they teleport a couple hundred meters away from Nemesis. At least _it_ is now not in range of the swords. 

„No!” Oskar hears Neme desperately cry out in his headphones. Today Rekkles is not there to save him. The swords fall down.

The sky is pierced by a blindingly bright pillar of light but Oskar doesn't close his eyes. 

Selfmade is safely tucked in a golden, impenetrable sphere.

  
  


Nemesis is not.

  
  


Oskar sees the world around him in slow motion as hundreds of dark, dim swords rain down on the shiny robot, piercing its armor, destroying the machinery, shooting through metal as if it were butter. Nemesis shatters to pieces in the accompaniment of explosions of its engines. It roars in a last metallic scream before disconnecting.

„NEME,” Oskar cries out and orders his mech to rush to catch the falling pilot capsule. Another set of swords falls down, this time golden and shiny and equally deadly but Caps has already dashed out of the danger zone, moving in the direction opposite to Selfmade.

There is a hole in the capsule. Oskar doesn't care about the fact that the enemy is still nearby, he ignores the voices in his headphones telling him not to leave the mech, jumps out of the cockpit and runs to Neme's side. 

After Selfmade's invulnerability disappears Caps starts moving towards the mech again, but it stops in its tracks as if taking pity on the lone pilot rushing to his friend. It floats nearby, the person behind the panel probably amused by the view and Oskar curses in his direction.

He reaches the capsule and nervously opens the door. No amount of combat training nor farewells said to fallen companions prepared him for this moment. 

"O... Oskar... I... can't see... are you here?" Neme asks in a guttural voice, sounding as if he's choking on words. There is a hole in his lower body, lining up with the one on the metal wall.

"NEME!" Oskar cries out and runs to his side. He holds his best friend, his dearest companion, his brother in arms in a gentle but tight embrace, trying to make sure that he won't disappear.

To say that Neme... Tim is bleeding would be an understatement. His insides are gushing blood, and it smears on Oskar's thighs, arms, hands, it's in his hair and on his suit and on the walls and there is no way that somebody who lost this much blood would...

"I... feel so cold... Oskar... are you all right? I can't hear you..."

"NEME! NO, PLEASE, TIM, DON'T LEAVE ME, YOU CAN'T-"

"Oskar? Oskar... are you all right? Can you..." he tries to smile, but it's a sour smile – Neme was never good at smiling, why is he smiling now? "...smack me on the back... if... it's you?"

"YOU ARE GOING TO PULL THROUGH, YOU HEAR ME? I WILL SAVE YOU, I WILL..."

Oskar has no healing abilities. There's nothing he can do.

"Os... kar?" Tim pleads so silently Oskar hears him only because he's holding him so close.

He lightly pats his best friend's back and crooks his lips in the saddest of smiles.

Tears well up in his eyes, forming two streams on his cheeks, falling down on Neme's face and Tim's unseeing eyes shift at the feeling as if he's trying to check what hit him, and he relaxes at the realization that Oskar is here, he is the one that holds him within his strong arms, in his warm embrace.

"I'm... glad... you're all right... Thank you..." Tim musters. His eyes that's never looked directly into Oskar's are grey, turns out they probably always were, but now they are glossy and don't avoid a gaze. They're not moving anymore and won't avoid any gaze ever again. Oskar closes them with one hand and lets go of the body after one last tight hug.

He stumbles out of the capsule, the world dizzy, the steely taste of blood invading his tongue. He must look like a mess but he doesn't care. As he covers the distance of his mech's arm he realizes Caps is right there, floating next to him, observing his misery in its full glory.

He screams curses in its direction and if he could, he would kill the enemy pilot with his bare hands. There is nothing he can do outside of his robot though and he accepts that those will be his final words.

But instead of letting him join his best friend with one well-aimed swing of its chains, Caps turns around and flies away. 

***

All of the days are now the same. 

Oskar doesn't cry, he busies himself with work instead. The FNC members patrol the city area as usual after successfully defusing the bomb the last time, they train, he volunteers to train the new guy and goes to all the meetings he's always found useless. He has to take extra hours as a punishment for disobeying the order to stay in the mech, and he gladly does so.

The troop captain is concerned about his health, but he dismisses the worry. Despite this, he receives a free day. He doesn't want it, what is he supposed to do?

Oskar feels lonely. Fucking lonely.

He considers himself a big man, immune to nostalgia and wistful thinking. This fact doesn't make him resistant to feeling like there is no one who understands him, no one who'd listen to him, no one whom he can simply spend time with. It Seems like Neme was more important than Oskar realized and he curses himself for never telling him just how much valued his company. He was weird, shy and anti-social, spoke in half-sentences and preferred spending time with his mech than with people and his low self-esteem on top of his unattractive, or maybe even ugly exterior prevented him from ever successfully dating anyone. His natural sense of humor was dry and he was slow to catch up on Oskar's jokes. He was overly analytical and cautious, waiting for an enormous amount of information before stepping up to fight and there was no way to convince him otherwise – he was too stubborn.

But he was always there. Loyal to the bone, even though Oskar was giving him back so little. He was listening to him, treating his minute problems seriously and giving him his advice, sometimes stupid but he tried nonetheless. As the book-smart one, he was helping Oskar with studying and remembered things for him, like dates of birthday or important appointments. He took his friend's shifts even though he must've been tired, but he never complained about anything, silently content with the position he reached. He stayed by Oskar's side even if he was doing something questionable, like bullying this one guy in their MAD Lions days. 

And one more thing, probably the most important – he was ready to give up his life for Oskar.

Was his sacrifice really necessary? What were they fighting for in the first place? It was just a bomb under a state laboratory, there were no civilians inside, just some questionable experiments. G2 is dangerous, sure, but in the end the terrorists are people too, people who choose to oppose the governmental babble by fire power. Oskar doesn’t care about politics, he simply believes there is a grand plan behind what he’s doing but can he really achieve something without anyone who puts their trust in him? What is he trying to achieve anyway?

It's excruciatingly hard to move, to breathe, to get up from his bed on the morning of his free day, to take a shower and eat something. He sits alone in his room and the four walls seem to be closing on to him. He has to get out. Normally he'd take a flight with his mech, but lately it doesn't feel the same, like Selfmade can sense that his heart is wavering and doesn't want to obey the commands of a weakling.

As he trudges through the busy streets of Neoberlin a message notification rings in his pocket. It's Rasmus. Oskar has nearly forgotten about him, not hearing a word from him on Sunday when he didn't show up on their scheduled meeting and not reaching out himself.

_ Hey, sorry I couldn't make it on Sunday, I was swamped with work. Can we try to meet up again? _

The message feels weirdly formal, not like Rasmus at all. Indeed, he must've spent a lot of time in the office lately to write like this. What's more interesting is that, as it turns out, he didn't show up on Sunday either, which means Oskar hasn't disappointed him and there is still a chance to revive the relationship. A small spark of excitement rekindles his heart, giving him more energy than he's felt in a week, but he quickly puts it off, feeling guilty. How can he feel even slightly happy?

Well, but maybe Neme would prefer him to feel happy rather than mourn his death forever. 

_ Hey! I'm free today, you up? I feel like drinking,  _ he answers, hoping that Rasmus would miraculously also have a free day. Overindulging in vodka sounds like a good plan for the evening. When a few minutes pass without an answer he shrugs in resignment and shoves the phone down his pocket. Not long after another ring reverberates in his ears and he pulls out the phone so fast he nearly drops it.

_ I'm not drinking, but I don't mind if you want to. _

Of course Rasmus would be abstinent. Oskar considers dropping the idea, but the man said he doesn't mind so it should be okay to be the only one drinking – at least he won't be alone.

_ Meet me at 7? Sending you the localization. _

He does as he wrote and this time the answer comes immediately.

_ Yes! I got it! See you! _

Now, this sounds more like Rasmus. It's good to know he's also excited to see Oskar again.

Waiting for the time to come, the pilot wanders around the city and even if his pace is a bit jumpier than it was before, nobody is there to judge.

They meet in the center of the city, at a small pub hidden in a dirty back alley of the main street. The atmosphere of the place fits Oskar's state of mind – it's dim and the dark blue, heavily bruised walls are sporting graffiti, stickers and other marks of the people who stopped there, even if by chance. Rasmus looks a bit out of place with his cheery appearance and light-colored clothes, but at least he's not intimidated by the pub. He casually orders a cup of orange juice like he does it every day and the barman doesn't spare him a single glance while preparing the drink. 

Oskar settles for a bottle of vodka, cola and some snacks. He drinks the first three shots right off the bat to set an intoxicated mood for the rest of the night and washes down the bitter taste with cola. The substance warms up his insides and he can't wait for it to start doing its magic.

Rasmus eyes him with a concerned look, but says nothing, sipping on his juice. 

„So... how have you been... lately?” he breaks after another second of silence. It sounds like he really doesn't want to ask the question – maybe he's actually afraid of talking to people who drink?

„Hmm,” Oskar hums. „Do you want to hear the socially acceptable version or the reality?”

„...whichever you wish to share,” Rasmus mutters, biting on the inside of his right cheek, his brows high, looking like he's pleading. Is it for Oskar to tell the truth or not, that's not something the pilot can tell. 

„Terrible,” he decides to go with the truth.

„I'm...” Rasmus takes a full breath before whispering the next word, „sorry,” like it's really hard for him to hear that Oskar had a bad day. He is not even looking at his opposite anymore, his gaze escaping to follow the busy hands of the barman.

„You know how I wanted you to meet my best friend last Sunday?” Oskar tries to sound casual, even though his throat clenches. He takes another shot, followed by one more. The first three are already starting to take effect, relaxing his muscles and Oskar enjoys the warm feeling in his stomach.

„Yeah...” Rasmus squirms in his seat, his hands clenching the cup of orange juice in an iron grip.

„Well, it's-” Oskar's voice breaks, and he curses under his breath, „it's not gonna happen. He's... no longer here,” he mutters and he can feel his eyes wet. How pathetic. He takes another shot and those are clearly not enough, he's still not drunk, so he takes the bottle and chugs right from it. His body involuntarily cringes, like it wants to eject the poison but Oskar swallows, rams the bottle into the counter with a loud bang and hisses. Cola follows vodka right in its tracks.

„Oskar,” Rasmus looks at him with a serious expression. „I am... so, so sorry for your loss. You... don't know how sorry I am...” his voice cracks a little and he shakes his head.

„Oh. It's not like it's _your_ fault, you don't have to be _this_ sorry,” he jokes through tears threatening to fall, but stops them by pure willpower. 

Rasmus is looking into Oskar's eyes with real concern and something else, like he wants to add another sentence but can't find the right words. At last, he declines his head and looks into his cup of juice like it holds all of the answers to the fleetingness of life.

Slowly but surely, Oskar stops to care. He nips on his crisps, his eyes half-lidded, vision a bit blurry and his stomach reminding him that his drinking hygiene deserves to leave him vomiting in a corner. But he doesn't give in to the nauseous feeling – he floats somewhere close to the small, brown bowl holding the crisps and this funny drink that Rasmus has now, which is not juice anymore but rather something the barman gave him for free – oh, Oskar starts to feel a bit jealous, he should just take the barman out for a quick fistfight to show his dominance like an alpha he is, nobody is taking something that's _his_ \- but just before he screams at the man behind the counter, something happens. The world stops as Rasmus slowly holds out his hand and puts it on Oskar's cheek. It's such a small, simple touch but it's warm like the afternoon sun on the day they first kissed on the steep hill above the lake. Oskar is reminded of all the carefree moments they shared together and even though it wasn't a lot, the alcohol in his veins enhances the feeling to the point where it's unbearable. 

He closes his eyes and leans into the touch – when was the last time he touched another person? - and puts his hand on Rasmus's – ah, the last time he touched somebody wasn't pleasant at all, but today can be so much different and even though there should be guilt, it's burned down along with his conscience. When he opens his eyes, Rasmus looks at him like he knows what effect this touch was supposed to have, but is still surprised by how needy Oskar seems to be. Their fingers link and their lips find each other in a sloppy, messy kiss as Oskar's balance on his stool isn't at its best at the moment and he nearly trips, but he needs _more_.

„We can move... to a hotel nearby,” Rasmus whispers out of breath, sounding like he's trying to convince himself that he wants to go, but Oskar doesn't care. Even when he falls from his stool and while he's trying to get back on his feet the side of his eye records that Rasmus and the barman exchange a few words he still doesn't care. At the back of his mind, a single brain cell cries that something is suspicious and that he should run, a habit of his intuition he's trained in the army, but there is not a single ounce of care in his veins, all replaced by vodka.

Oskar can still walk alone – maybe not exactly straight, but there is nothing straight about what they're about to do anyway. It reminds him of the first and last time he's been with a man like this – still at school, before the dreams of greatness overtook any other desires. He lets Rasmus handle all the formalities at a ragged hotel reception desk and lets himself be dragged to whatever room he chose. As soon as they enter, his partner locks the door from inside and wants to move through the narrow entrance to get to the bed, but Oskar stops him in his tracks, bending his arm back and drawing him into his embrace. Rasmus squirms before surrendering and reciprocating the prolonging hug and whispers into Oskar's ear:

„Bed?” 

„I want to take you right here,” Oskar growls and takes both his hands in one of his, pushing them onto a wall above Rasmus's head. He attacks his lips but it doesn't seem like the other is enjoying it as much as him, not reciprocating the kiss.

„Why are we doing this?” Rasmus whispers, breaking away from Oskar and easily pushing him away – he's much, much stronger than the pilot expected. His brows are so close they're nearly touching, his eyes jumping from one side to the other as if he's trying to solve an internal dilemma.

„I want you, Rasmus,” Oskar admits simply, looking down at the smaller figure through his shaking vision. „I thought... you wanted me too?” He tries not to sound hurt, but it still comes off as bitter. Why did they move to the hotel in the first place? What is wrong with this guy?

„...yes,” Rasmus answers after a few silent seconds of gazing into Oskar like he wants to get inside his head. He smiles in his usual, bright and lovely way that makes Oskar's heart skip a beat, but this time it's woven with sadness. His arms catch the other's shoulders and grip him like he'd disappear otherwise. „Please... hurt me,” he whispers into Oskar's ear so quietly and hesitantly the pilot thinks he might've misheard.

„Hurt you?” he repeats, not understanding where it came from.

„You can be as rough as you want. Please, hurt me, destroy me, do whatever you want. I... deserve this. For still wanting to be with you,” Rasmus admits, leaning back to look directly into Oskar's eyes. What he's saying is not tempting nor teasing but rather sounds genuinely guilty.

„What? That doesn't make any sense,” Oskar says shaking his head, trying to make it work. He can't connect the dots – Rasmus is making it sound like it's wrong for them to be together, but why? Of course, Oskar isn't fully innocent himself – he's fully aware that he's seeking the contact just because he's lonely and drunk. He might regret it tomorrow, and seemingly so might Rasmus, for whatever reason. It doesn't mean that they can't enjoy the night though, and if his lover wants to be hurt, Oskar is not completely _not_ into it.

„Please, just hit me or bite me or fuck me rough,” he asserts, more determined this time, like he's finally decided what he wants.

Oskar complies, slapping his face and nipping on the soft skin below him, light at first, but Rasmus keeps asking him to go harder, so he channels his inner anger and hits him so hard it leaves a bruise and bites him so hard it draws blood and pulls his hair so hard strands are left in his hand. Rasmus hisses and thrashes, but doesn't protest nor pushes Oskar away. 

They don't move from the entrance and the wooden floor digs into the smaller male's exposed skin with each aggressive thrust of Oskar's hips. 

The night is naught but a blurry aftertaste when Oskar wakes up in the hotel bed the next morning. Rasmus is still sleeping. His body is full of bite marks and bruises defiling its smooth silkiness. Oskar contemplates whether he should just dress, leave and never contact this man again after what he's done to him. He leans in closer to take a last glance at Rasmus's face and while he does so, he notices something reflects light of the late morning falling from behind a curtain.

A dagger peaks from behind the part of the pillow Rasmus is occupying. Its threatening nature contrasts with the peaceful look on the other man's sleeping face. Carefully, as not to wake him up, Oskar takes the knife in his hand and puts it on Rasmus's neck, right on the artery. He restrains the movement of his head once again drowning his hand in the other's hair, as not to kill him by accident if he wakes up with a start. 

„Rasmus. Wake up,” he demands. When the man does so, looking back at him with dreamy and sleepy eyes, he continues. „Don't move.”

„Mmm?” Rasmus asks groggily, but a second after his eyes open wide with the realization that cold metal is touching his throat.

„Who are you?” Oskar interrogates and a tinge of pain wanders into his voice. A normal person wouldn't carry a knife like that.

Rasmus swallows and the movement of his Adam's apple makes the dagger sit dangerously close to his bruised neck skin.

„I'm... just an office worker! What are you doing?!”

Oskar's head hurts. There is no way... is there?

„Why was there a knife under the pillow?” he roars.

„Oskar, I...” His eyes dart to a side. „...I like pain.”

That's... obviously true, looking at how battered he is. Oskar feels now even more guilty than he was, realizing that his army instincts took over his ability to think. If Rasmus wanted to kill him, he would've already done it while he was asleep.

„Oh. I'm sorry,” he mutters, putting down the dagger. Now Rasmus has all right to ask what that was about and Oskar has no good answers. 

But the question never comes. Oskar wants to believe it's because the other man trusts him. He desperately wants to trust Rasmus, too. Nevertheless, he can't help himself from watching the exact pocket the dagger goes into.

They dress and leave the hotel in silence, both deep in thoughts. Just as Oskar feels like it would be their last time seeing one another and he glances sideways to take in more of Rasmus, even if just for a moment, their eyes meet. 

„Hey. It's okay, I really liked it,” Rasmus jumps to him to say it directly to his face with a beautiful, shiny and slightly mischievous smile, so fitting his countenance. He doesn't seem mad nor sad nor even slightly disappointed which should be natural when your lover puts a knife to your neck, but maybe that's just the kind of person Rasmus is. „I think I've decided something,” he says while still smiling, but his eyes, digging into Oskar's own, are serious. „I... will get you,” he announces as if it's a promise.

„I'm not _that_ hard to get. At least not for you,” Oskar smiles back. Feels good to know it wasn't as bad as he expected the other to think it was.

„I'll remember that!” Rasmus laughs and Oskar joins with a snicker even if he's not sure what's so funny. The other man just feels _right_ today, not gloomy and hesitant like he was yesterday. „Okay, we're in contact, just let me know if you're busy,” Rasmus says and waves for a goodbye, but Oskar is having none of this beta bullshit. He pulls the smaller man close and traps him with his lips, thirsty to feel him without the alcoholic blur of the previous night. They make out on the entrance to the hotel until somebody yells at them to get a room. Oskar starts screaming back at the intrusive guest but Rasmus silences him with a peck and a burst of pearly laughter as he regains the man's attention.

They finally say their goodbyes and each walks away each in his direction, Oskar looking back behind his shoulder one or two times, maybe three. Maximum four.

  
***

They start texting, and even though Oskar was never too fond of writing messages, now he's completely enthralled with the idea. Mentally, he's doing better and better with each passing day, the sadness slowly disappearing to give way to hope. Sometimes he feels like he's betraying Neme, but he still considers him his best friend and always will – Rasmus is something different. 

Unfortunately, their schedules lately never seem to match. Oskar is almost always down to meet, but Ramus keeps being busy. They finally agree on a day after more than two weeks of keeping remote contact, but a day before the date Oskar along with other FNC members get assigned a mission. Not your everyday patrol, something more grave. Seems like the spies have located the new base of the terrorists and they'll be sent to hopefully get rid of them once and for all. As the enemy should be unaware of what's happening, Selfmade's invisibility will be a crucial asset in destroying the base while the others will engage in a fight.

He lies to Rasmus once again, saying he's got an urgent repair and can't make it after all. It's not enjoyable to deceive a person this close. Oskar feels guilty, but can't help it – he can't tell Rasmus what his real occupation is... at least yet. If they decide to put a label on their relationship, then maybe... 

Oskar will think about it when the time comes.

On the day of the mission, the atmosphere in the base is very serious. If everything goes along the plan they'd be able to get rid of the danger and save countless lives of civilians and their own comrades. They've lost too many already. Not only Neme, but the pilot Oskar replaced and many, many more...

As if reading his mind, the team captain puts a hand on Oskar's shoulder and nods in agreement. He must've lost the most, he was also there at the time of the betrayal but he's still here, fighting for the greater cause. Oskar wonders just what his limit is – is he going to fight forever? Or rest after they destroy G2? Who'll then become the next captain – Oskar, maybe?

He'd like that. After all, he is and always has been here to achieve something grand, even though he's still not sure what this is. In this fight he can not only prove himself but also avenge Neme's death. Admittedly, he's not supposed to engage directly with the rest so he probably won't be the person to kill Caps, but as long as he can walk over the pilot's dead cold corpse, his thirst for revenge should be sated. Or so he hopes. He can imagine Neme raising his brows in disapproval at this idea, but it only further motivates him. He's going to avenge his friend, whether he'd like it or not.

FNC leave the base in high spirits. It's the day they can leave their traces in history books, if the terrorists are really as ill-prepared as they seem to be after the sudden relocation.

Four robots are left behind as Oskar stalks closer to the valley the base is supposedly located in. The weather is perfect for the mission – it's not raining, but the Sun is hidden behind the clouds, making Selfmade impossible to spot. The robot is ready for the mission too – even though it's been a bit moody when Oskar's mental state was at its worst, now it's again under the steel control of the pilot. It's been channeling energy since they left the base and it's ready to use the ultimate ability as soon as needed.

Oskar's teammates cause a commotion in a small grove located south of the mountain, while Selfmade is supposed to attack from the north. The enemy robots react immediately and depart from the base. Not all of them – exactly three. From what a report tells Oskar, Caps is one of the two mechs that didn't leave. 

Now, he's supposed to wait. His teammates are in a 4v3 situation and they should win or at least force the enemy to call for reinforcements. Oskar hates waiting, but he can't disobey the orders again. Clouds slowly pass by on the grey sky as he nervously lies in wait.

After what feels like an excruciatingly long time, but probably is just a short moment, he sees a mech. It's flying in his direction alone, but it's one of the sturdy types Selfmade won't be able to assassinate alone, even with his ultimate ready. It's moving exactly in Oskar's direction, even though Selfmade must be hidden from the enemy's eyes.

The comms nearly explode with a sudden barrage of information. The three mechs that were supposed to get distracted by the other FNC members are rushing back, Caps is nowhere to be seen, the mech in front of him probably knows his location... They are coming for him.

Oskar has to run. Good thing Selfmade is one of the fastest machines, and that's on top of being able to teleport a few hundred meters back with the second part of his ultimate ability. He wants to make use of both parts though and asks for permission for a quick engage. The captain is against it at first, but the others all argue to let Oskar go and he crumbles and agrees. If Neme were here it wouldn't have happened as he was another voice of care within the team, but he's not here anymore and Oskar can finally do what his soul tells him. If he's breaking his best friend's rules, it's only for him.

Before the enemy mech spots Selfmade's exact location, it reveals itself in front of its right leg. It swiftly unleashes his tails to cause immediate damage to the heavy armored dark-green limb, causing it to fall off. If the enemy grabs or punches him, it's game over for Selfmade, but both it and its pilot know it very well. As the damaged mech starts to fall down from the impact, the cockpit tilts so that Selfmade is positioned exactly in front of it. The enemy robot manages to cover its lethal spot with its arms when the tails, accompanied by purple mist swing with the power of a thousand swords and cut through another two limbs as if it were a child's play. 

It doesn't reach the enemy pilot, the additional cover with the already heavy armor of the mech barely defending him from certain death. The robot is now definitely unable to chase and that's enough for Oskar.

Selfmade blinks back and is immediately stopped in its tracks. What's holding it down are two giant chains, one of them the size of the purple mech.

Oskar realizes it was a trap all along a bit too late. 

They knew Selfmade's exact location, what its ability can do and Caps was nowhere to be found. Now it's held in an iron grip as Oskar curses, once again outwitted by the mysterious genius pilot. It's the third time. The third time is a charm, they say, and Rekkles is not here to save him and nor is Nemesis.

„Thank you,” he mutters bitterly, remembering his final words that, by a very unfunny coincidence, were also his best friend's last goodbye. 

Did Neme really die for this? 

As long as Oskar is alive, he'll keep fighting. For reasons unknown to him, Caps haven't killed him yet, holding Selfmade so close that it can't move, but not dealing any damage. Instead, a notification that an unspecified mech is trying to come into contact with Oskar pops on the screen. 

He accepts, if only to desperately yell Polish curses at this enemy who took everything from him.

„Oskar,” an eerily familiar voice reverberates in his headset.

„FUCK YOU! I'LL KILL YOU AND ALL OF YOUR FUCKING-” he yells but stops at the next words of the pilot.

„Rasmus here.” 

„DON'T TRY TO FUCK WITH ME, YOU'RE NOT-”

„With two 'S's,” Rasmus says, his voice bright and happy, completely contrasting with how grave serious the situation is for Oskar. His words make sense. 

As much as he'd like to deny it, to wipe the connection from his brain, it makes sense. How the enemies knew his exact location and hell, even the date of the mission, how the pilot knows his name and what Rasmus said to him during their first meeting... it makes sense. Oskar doesn't want it to make sense, he wants to wake up from this nightmare as his rage slowly rises to a burning hot mad level, only red in his eyes.

„DID YOU HAVE FUN PLAYING WITH ME? OF COURSE YOU DID, YOU FUCKING HEARTLESS TRAITOR! FUCK YOUR WHORE OF A MOTHER FOR GIVING BIRTH TO YOU!” he keeps screaming and spits over his shoulder, making sure that the other can hear the gesture.

„My mother is a very nice lady, Oskar, I'd even like you to meet her. You're sexy when mad but please, stop shouting and let me talk!” Rasmus pleads in the manner of his that Oskar knows way too well. It feels disgusting, thinking about what they did and how he was deceived even though his instinct screamed at him.

„I should've killed you that night,” he spits but lowers his volume nonetheless. The enemy mechs that were drawing closer stop at their fallen companion and not one comes closer to where Selfmade and Caps float, still connected in an unmovable embrace of the chains.

„I was ordered to kill you,” Rasmus admits, sounding as guilty as he did when they were sitting at the bar. „but I couldn't,” he adds, his voice cutting off like he's shaking his head.

„So you knew from the start,” Oskar states firmly, not needing an answer. 

„No! I didn't! You probably don't believe me but... I learned you're sitting in this mech only after I saw you run to...” Rasmus's voice cuts off, but he doesn't let Oskar interject. „I'm terribly sorry, I really didn't know. I- I shouldn't care who the pilot is in the first place and kill you right there and then but... I couldn't,” he whispers. „I was shocked, like you are right now. We're so similar, we even like the same things! Why do we have to fight?” 

„You are a fucking terrorist, Rasmus,” Oskar spits the name as if it burns his tongue. „You murdered my best friend.”

„Yes. But I still love you,” Rasmus mutters. „The moments we spent on that cliff were real, Oskar. Please, believe me.” 

„WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO? SAY 'YES, I LOVE YOU TOO' AND RUN AWAY WITH YOU? AFTER YOU'VE MURDERED NEME RIGHT BEFORE MY EYES?” Oskar cries out mournfully, trying to keep his voice angry but failing. His heart is not an impenetrable fortress and for the first time it feels like it's broken beyond repair. Something starts building up in his chest, a feeling he's never felt before. It's crawling his skin, wrapping around his insides and whispering in his ear. 

„Yes. Join me. I'm sure we can achieve grand things together,” Rasmus lays down his offer.

Oskar is lost. For the first time in his life, there is not a clear path before him. This man is asking him to give away everything he's worked for since he was a child, but has he achieved anything but loss and betrayal? What is the thing he’s fighting for anyway? His unwavering spirit flinches and burns away, a blue fire slowly replacing it with its bright light. A voice whispering in his ear tells him to give his power away, to resign and let _it_ take over.

He does.

Selfmade burns with blue mist, its armor changing color from the intensity of fire scorching it from every angle. Caps can't hold it anymore as the chains start to melt and it jumps back in surprise. Rasmus is saying something, but Oskar can't hear him from behind smoke that blocks his thoughts and actions. It feels like he's not in control of his own body anymore. Through the last pieces of consciousness, he realizes what's happening.

It's Niebieski. The mech that no longer exists, having its name forcefully changed to Selfmade, finally found a crack in Oskar's resolve. The pilot remembers well what the mysterious conscience was like before he tamed it. It was unsated in its search for blood, driven by one primal desire.

To kill.

„NO!” Oskar yells, but the mech is no longer listening to him nor his commands. 

The energy for the ultimate ability is not channeled yet, but it doesn't matter. The blue tails swing through the air, cutting through Caps like its shiny armor was there only for show. As Niebieski teleports back, the last thing that Oskar sees is a surprised expression on Rasmus's face from behind the broken opaque glass, right before his robot explodes.

***

Oskar doesn't remember what happened next. From what he's told at the headquarters, he blinked right in front of four enemies and massacred them all in mere seconds, not leaving any scraps for his arriving allies. 

They destroyed the base, killing every person that resided there without any mercy.

Niebieski is pronounced a hero that fought off terrorism all by itself and children learn in school about the purple mech that burned blue in face of imminent danger. 

Due to his wish, they never mention the pilot by name. They only say that he is a person that always knew he was born to achieve something grand.

After the terrorists are dispelled, Niebieski's pilot completely disappears. The public understands that he's reached his highest high and the hero is no longer needed. His leave is closely followed by the disbandment of FNC.

***

„That was the real story of Niebieski, not this bullshit they taught you in the orphanage,” a man explains to a child sitting on his lap.

„How do you know this, dad?” the child asks, piercing the man with its curious stare.

Dad turns to look at another man standing in the kitchen, burning something on the oven.

„The pilot told me this himself,” he explains.

"You were friends with Niebieski? Were you a mech pilot when you were younger?"

"Yes. Yes, I was," Dad says with a voice full of melancholy and a slight smirk on his worn out face. He once again glances at his partner, hopelessly playing with fire. The child follows the look with a tilted head.

"Were you a mecha pilot too, papa?” 

The other man looks over his shoulder disapprovingly, scolding his partner with a frown.

„No. Mecha pilots are born to achieve something grand and I'm just your regular mechanic.”

**Author's Note:**

> who is the man?
> 
> *
> 
> thank you to Piper_Ronnie without who I'd never EVER even consider writing Capsmade  
> thank you to the creators of Code Geass and Kakumeiki Valvrave for the inspiration on the mecha parts (watch both those anime, Valvrave is the best glorious tranwreck of this century)  
> thank you to Ai no Scenario, which kept me motivated to write this story out (Oskar is the girl, Caps is the bad guy and Neme is the good guy???? I want to write it xD)
> 
> congratulations to Celaena, I'm pretty sure she must have at least 5 brains
> 
> goodbye to those whom I've lost, with the end of this fic I'm free of sadness and, hopefully, my writer block too
> 
> see you on the other side and  
> thank you


End file.
